


The Well of All Souls

by DiamondScribe (DiamondSuits)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Here Lies the Abyss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8273554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondSuits/pseuds/DiamondScribe
Summary: Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.In my arms lies Eternity.
-Andraste 14:1





	

Cullen hadn’t been there to see the Inquisitor first fall from the Fade.

He wonders if Kina looked then as she does now - harried, haunted, with deep seated horror in her eyes that he’s seen too many times in too many people. Despite the worry that spikes within him, he can’t deny his odd sense of awe - it’s easy to see her as the Herald of Andraste as she stands there, bloodied but victorious, illuminated in the unnatural glow of the fading Rift.

The eyes of every soldier on the ramparts turn toward her, and, for a moment, there is only silence.

Then an explosion of action - the warriors and advisors and wardens that had been struck dumb by the Inquisitor’s apparent death now spring upon her like a pack of wild mabari, clamoring to her side. It might be smarter to let her stay and work her way through the barrage of questions now rather than delay the inevitable, but when Cullen catches the sound of accusations among the din, he cannot find it in himself to let her face this alone.

“Back off!” His scarred lips draw back in a snarl as he shoves his way through the wall of clanking armor. “The Inquisitor will answer everything in time!”

That only brings about more shouting, but Cullen ignores them all as he drapes his arm around Kina’s shoulders (she seems so small against him, so fragile beside his armored body) and steers her through the crowd. There’s some degree of pushing, but those before them finally start to part, still calling thanks and threats as Cullen leads her away.  

There’s no telling what exactly she’s gone through, but medical attention seems to be the first logical step. He tries to steer her toward the little corner that the healers have set up in, but she stops him - her hand shoots down to his own,fingers entwining in a deadly tight grip.

“No.”

Cullen casts her a surprised look.

“Inquisitor,” he begins, as gentle as he can. “You’re bleeding. You need-”

For the first time that night, Kina tilts her head up and looks at him. Though she meets his eyes, it feels as if she’s staring somewhere that’s not entirely here, her fine features drawn into an expression he has not seen on her face before. She’s supposed to be different from him - she’s been different in so many ways, quick to smile, quick to tease, forgiving and humble and capable in every way that Cullen is not. The look in her eyes that speaks of distance and demons is far too close to what Cullen sees in the looking glass every morning.

“Please.”

That single, tremulous word is enough to break him.

Cullen concedes (it’s hard enough for him to disobey her on a regular day, much less after an event like this). Without a word, he turns, leading her from the ramparts into the fortress below. The castle has been mostly cleared of darkspawn and enemies (though he swears he can catch the lingering stench of the Taint on the stones), so he leads her through the twisting, bloodstained halls to the first half decent room he can find. It seems to be a library of some sort, with high shelves and stack after stack of ancient books that have been miraculously untouched by the fighting. He gently urges her into a seat as he kneels down, rifles through his pack.

Now that they’re alone, he gets a better sense of the state Kina’s in - her robes are ripped in places, stained with blood that isn’t entirely her own. Even now, she maintains a sort of white knuckled grip on her staff, eyes darting to the darkened corners of the room as if she suspects there to be a demon among them.

There’s not a word yet for what they are, what lays in between the chess matches and awkward flirtations, but now Cullen finds that it surprisingly easy to push through his shyness as he sets his hand over her own. He can’t feel her skin through the thickness of his gauntlets, but as he gently works her fingers open, he can swear that he catches the Anchor’s tingle through leather and metal.

“There we go.” Though Cullen fears patronizing her, he smiles as reassuringly as he can as he sits back on his haunches. “Where are you hurt?”

Kina doesn’t immediately answer. It takes her a moment to turn back to him, as if she wasn’t aware that he’d been speaking to begin with. When her eyes do turn to Cullen, she opens her mouth, then closes it again, as if unable to summon the words. Her hand trembles against his own.

“I…” She begins again, voice wavery and odd. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Cullen pulls back, not quite understanding her meaning.

“Inquisitor?”

Kina jerks her hand away, carding it roughly through her hair as, with a final deep, shaky sigh, the words burst out.

“What have I done to earn that title? What have I done to earn any of this?” She turns to him again, her eyes wild, unfocused. “I’ve done _nothing_. They all look up to me, and rely on me, and I’m just - Mythal, Cullen, I’m a fucking halla herder! You’re all here expecting me to fight darkspawn and dragons and things that I never even knew existed, when before the Conclave, I rarely stepped outside of my clan’s borders! I just - I don’t -”

She sucks in a harsh breath, her hands balling into fists. “I don’t… I don’t want to do this anymore. I… The Fade, Cullen, it’s not… You don’t understand, it showed me things. Skyhold had been lost because of my stupid decisions, and everyone was dead, and you were… You were…”

Her breath hitches in a sob, and when Cullen sees tears welling up in her icy eyes, he can’t hold himself back any longer.

He pulls her close, and though her arms wrap around his neck with a force hard enough to choke, he doesn’t push her away. He isn’t sure what she’s saying in between sobs or if her words are even in common, but he still rubs a hand up and down her back and murmurs assurances against a pointed ear. There’s nothing he can really say to take it all away, though he desperately wishes to - this isn’t a task anyone should have forced upon them, much less a woman like her.

“...I cannot think of a single woman more qualified than you are,” he breathes. He pulls back then, his hands on her shoulders, his eyes searching her own. “Everything the Inquisition is, it’s because you’ve steered us here. You’re our core. We need you.”

Kina’s shaking her head, and as she opens her mouth to deny him, Cullen continues on.

“Without you, we wouldn’t have made it out of Haven. We wouldn’t have half of the force we do now -  You’ve brought us together, and you’re the one keeping all of us in line. You do so, so much for us.” Her breath hitches as he gives her a gentle squeeze. “We need you, Inquisitor. It’s selfish of us to ask so much of you, but even if you didn’t have the Anchor, I cannot think of anyone else more qualified to lead us.”

The look in her eyes is lost. She tries to speak, but just shakes her head, pulling him in for another tight embrace. She’s calmer then, quieter, but Cullen still holds her close, staying as steadfast and strong as she needs him to.  He’d decided long ago that’d he’d be ready to do whatever it was the Inquisition required of him - only recently did his priorities shift to the woman at it’s helm.

Eventually, Kina does manage to sit back, rubbing at her reddened eyes. Even now, streaked with blood and the tracks of her dried tears, she’s beautiful to him.

“...I’m sorry,” she breathes, voice rough. “You’ve got enough on your plate without me blubbering all over you.”

She finally smiles, though it’s far too self-deprecating for Cullen’s liking.

“Nonsense.” Before he can stop himself, he’s cupping her face in his hands, smiling as he brushes a few stray tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You should have seen me when I first started Templar training - I was wailing like a mabari pup after nearly every session.”

The laugh that provokes from her is warbly and wet, but Cullen marks it as a victory.

“You’re making that up.”

“I’m not,” he insists. “It was terrible. I was in the midst of composing shameful letters to my mother about me coming home when I finally managed to snap myself together.”

Kina smiles like she means it then, and there’s this look in her eyes that Cullen hasn’t seen before. She seems… Soft. Warm. Her eyes flick down to his lips, and, for a moment, he nearly convinces himself to push past the point of no return.

Common sense manages to be faster than his instincts. With an awkward sort of smile, Cullen pulls back, sure that red is rising to his face as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Yes, well… We really should get you to the healers, you know. I’m all out of healing potions.”

There’s this odd look of disappointment on her face that he knows he shouldn’t dwell on as she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and finally nods.

“If I must,” she sighs, rising to her feet. “I’m not all that bad off, honestly. You should have seen the demons I came across - they weren’t nearly as lucky.”

“While I’m sure you gave them a proper thrashing, it wouldn’t do if I let you just go. Imagine what Cassandra would do to me if you caught an infection on my watch? I’d never hear the end of it.”

Cullen stands, and as he turns to lead her to the door, he’s stopped by a hand in his own. Surprised, he glances back, blinking at Kina.

“Inquisitor?”

In a fluid motion, she leans up, and he feels the soft press of lips against his cheek before he even realizes what she’s doing.

“Thank you, Commander.” She’s smiling at him, pale skin lightly flushed as he steps ahead. “Now, come on. I suppose they’ll want answers.”

For a moment, all he can do is stare at her back, a warmth rising from his chest to flood his body, staining his skin as he went. His skin is tingling where she’d kissed him, as if there was lightning in her touch.

“I… Yes,” he manages, trying not to grin like a bloody fool as he stumbles after her. “Of course, Inquisitor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for Moxitoxis on Flight Rising. So glad to work with her Inquisitor, Kina!


End file.
